


Kiss Number Two: Sphuritaka

by a_xmasmurder



Series: The Eight Types of Kissing [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fixing things, Frustration, Kissing, Life and Such In MI6, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 02:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/894661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_xmasmurder/pseuds/a_xmasmurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2. Sphuritaka – pressing against the lips and occasionally touching the cheeks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Number Two: Sphuritaka

Q stood up from beneath Anne-Marie’s desk and smiled at her. “That should do it. Fixed and good as new.”

The little woman returned the smile.

He couldn’t help but shake his finger at her. “No more coffee at your workstation. With your habit of leaving the cup on the edge, and -” he waved his hands expansively at all the junk she insisted on keeping on the small Incoming Packages desk “ - nowhere else to put it, you tend to knock it over. It’s starting to become rather tedious, don’t you think, to always need someone to fix your computer for you?”

She nodded at him, reminding him of an overeager Shih-tzu.

“And I know I’m your favorite of the Help Desk techs, but you must know that I’m no longer - “

_“QUARTERMASTER!”_

Both their heads jerked up at the smallish, rattish looking man running across the lobby floor, clutching a tablet. Anne-Marie looked up at Q with wide eyes, and he sighed. “My secret identity is revealed, my dear. I must go, my people need me.” He planted his hands, screwdriver and all, and vaulted the desk, landing directly in the man’s path. “What is it?”

“Oh, good. You aren’t busy. It’s one of the D -”

“ _Shhht,_ you insipid mouse!” Q clamped his hand over the other’s mouth and looked for a name tag or someth - found it. “Randolph. We need to go somewhere a bit more private for this conversation, don’t you think?”

The man under his hand nodded, and reminded Q of a Mexican Hairless in the grips of a seizure. _Or the Rapture, who knew? Dogs went to Heaven, why couldn’t they have religion?_ Q shook away that train of thought before it derailed into his programming mind and fucked everything up for the day, and steered Randolph down the hall. He pushed the man into one of the empty administrative offices that still haven’t been occupied in the year after Silva, and stared at him. “Are you an idiot? No, don’t answer that, because the answer is obvious. _You. Don’t. Mention. That. Designation. Ever._ ” On each word, his voice became graver and stronger, and he got closer and closer to Randolph until he was nose to nose with him. “Got it?”

More nodding.

“Good.” Q sighed and waved with one hand. “Alright, hand it over. What’s going on?”

“It’s Bond -”

“Oh, _Jesus_ , Mary and Joseph.” Q breathed as he looked at the screen. He fished his earpiece out of his pocket and shoved it into his ear as he rounded the desk and powered up the dark computer. “Maggie? Get me on the comms - yes, I’m upstairs. Room one-oh-five. _Yes_. Just get me into the communications - thank you!” He resisted the urge to smack the monitor as it booted. “007? Are you there? Oh, brilliant, you are still alive. Perfect. Listen to me, now. I’m going to get you an escape route.” He grunted in response to the faint voice over the earpiece. “Yes, I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll make sure that one is disciplined. Yes. No, you may not shoot him, but thank you for asking politely.” He finally got online and linked with his personal system, the one M pretended not to notice. He grinned. “We are in business, 007. Let me get the schematics of the building, and we will get you -” He winced at the sound of gunfire, and nodded to himself. “Here. The door you are leaning against will lead you down to the basement. Go _now_. I will have more for you soon.”

  
  
  


The sound of his office door opening woke Q out of a nap, and his head snapped up. “Who? What blew up? What’s happening - oh, 007! Welcome back...so soon?”

007 leaned up against the doorjamb and smiled that brilliant smile again, though he was crusty with dried blood and had his left arm in a tight sling. He was breathing painfully, too, Q could tell. “Hi.”

“Weren’t you just in...Belfast?” Q blinked. “I just...”

“That was yesterday. You have keys imprinted on your cheek.”

Q blinked. “Oh. Well. So much for a nap.” He looked down at his watch. “And I’ve been asleep for ten hours.”

007 pushed away from the doorway and walked over to Q, pulled him out of his chair, and pressed his dry lips against the younger man’s once again, then pulled away and repeated the motion to both of Q’s reddening cheeks. He backed away, but kept his hands caged around Q’s ears. “Thank you for saving my life again, Quartermaster.”

“Um. Yes.” Q nodded as well as he could with his head trapped by two large calloused hands. “You are welcome.” He wasn’t sure when kissing someone was a way that the agent thanked them, but apparently it was a thing now.

007 started to laugh.


End file.
